


Número

by MR01



Category: American Gods (TV), American Gods - Neil Gaiman
Genre: Episode Related, Feelings Realization, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:42:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28688859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MR01/pseuds/MR01
Summary: He prays.To a God he betrayed.A friend that understands he lost, having done the work. Pushed him away. He doesn't know why anymore.He does it anyway. Like clockwork.
Relationships: CEO | Mr. Xie/Technical Boy
Comments: 14
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

He prays. To a boy that looks about his age. One he met on the worst day of his life.

To a God he betrayed. A monster, a perfect being of his own creation.

To a friend that he understands he lost, having done the work.

Pushed him away. And even now that time has passed, the air has cooled.

He doesn't really know why anymore. He does it anyway. Like clockwork.

* * *

It is three thirty on a Thursday when he finds himself alone in his office. His lunch sitting before him. A little colder now.

He isn't hungry but living on coffee and tea with shots of caffeine and alcohol here and there isn't much of a sustainable source either he thinks.

His mind wandering back to the day this all started. His plight's origin story.

He was a sophomore in college having traveled home for some short holiday break.

Had been so excited to see his Dad more importantly show him what he'd accomplished.

So he'd sat by his piano. Having practiced on the old instrument he had once long ago claimed, thought an enemy.

"Dad I have something I want to show you. I've been working on it for days on end."

"I swear next to this midterms were nothing. But come, let me just sit so I can show you."

He had remembered beaming up at his father. His old man not looking as excited to see what he's got cooking but he is here.

Humoring him. It's great. Enough.

"I translated all of Bach's cantatas into a database then wrote a program that segmented the notes into digital objects."

He sits down. Getting comfortable. His hands resting on the piano. So familiar.

Memories of days long gone filling his heart with emotions.

His Dad watching him.

Standing a short distance away. Waiting to see, hear what happens. Judge from there if needed.

He begins to play. Effortless he goes. He has practiced far too long it feels akin to breathing sometimes.

"The way that Bach statistically intended to. But everything it created was mechanical, artificial."

His fingers moving quickly. The music melancholy with an undertone of longing then there it is.

A note of hope, of inspiration and joy like wonder.

Slowing down a little now because he thinks the quicker he played the faster he had talked.

He father having compared his music to Bach's caliber. Only to find out that well it was a tweak of the algorithm.

And what had for a brief, fleeting instant looked like pride.

Then the silence just stretched a little too long.

All that's left is very visible disappointment.

Leaving him on the other hand more than a little put out.

Still he tries valiantly to recapture the magic he had once felt. While working on this. Before coming here. It isn't all lost.

He's almost to the end. The last few notes taking with them his remaining enthusiasm.

"The real insight was in programming violations to the predictable variations. I gave it permission to shatter the rules."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for waiting!

* * *

He's twenty-six and sitting in his office.

Looking out the window. He let thoughts of a family and a love outside of this place, his work hang out on the precipice of his mind.

Far enough away to keep him from the real world for long.

A steaming cup of mint tea sitting by his awakening computer.

This morning he woke up thinking he was above the world itself. At this hour he no longer feels it.

The moment he sat down in his chair, had been pretty much ready to get the day started he received the off kilter news that his father has died.

He hadn't spoken to him much in the past months. He regrets having refused to visit his Dad more often.

* * *

"I believe." He is on the church steps. His words are quiet like a whisper. Carried like a note in the wind.

He feels not quite himself. A zombie maybe.

Simply watching people pass him by like a leper.

As if they'd like to say something, probably share condolences or maybe offer a business compromise.

At least for the day. No one really goes out of their way to approach him.

He thinks he wants a drink or maybe a cigarette.

He has never really cared for either but today seems like a good day to just not worry.

There are so many emotions beginning to swirl in his mind, seep deep into his gut and begin to burrow.

A part of him would like to walk away. The other, what's left just wants to tell everyone to go home. That this is his moment, alone.

Mass has begun. His attention is drawn to the casket at the forefront of the large room.

A few years falling from his eyes and he wishes he had someone now. A mother, a sibling perhaps a friend.

Yet he doesn't. Not even the people he's paid for make an effort to stand by him now.

In the end he knows it's for the best. He takes a shakey breath.

"I'm not sure what but or in who but I do. So where ever you are. Please. Be with me."

A tune of Bach's he used to play as a kid now starting slowly in his mind. His code's advancement on the piece following along.

Making the sound louder, crisper.


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

He saw them appear out of thin air. A beautiful being bathed in sounds of sorrows, looking no older than him.

Standing in the middle of the church choir.

Dressed in vibrant colors, fancy clothes with luscious hair.

Looking so out of place. Like a new life. So perfect, unreachable.

He clearly doesn't belong here.

By all that is good in this world, he just wants to stand up and go to him. But he doesn't.

He is in the middle of his father's last mass. Sitting by some cousins and family friends.

He wants to go home but he will not dishonor him today. It is his funeral. Look away he cannot however.

When he is asked to give his eulogy he stands alone at the podium. He feels everyone focusing on him.

Steadying himself by taking a deep breath he looks down at the crowd.

He wants to throw up. He has never been one for stage fright but he feels like his feet are failing him.

His hands are clammy and his throat is dry. He can definitely feel a headache coming on.

The church is beginning to spin he thinks, look just like a moving carousel. Making him feel like he is stuck in a maze.

When he cannot escape from or not that he is trying to move right now anyway.

Nothing in his life feels steady. Oh boy. The overwhelming nausea is not leaving him be.

He thinks he might just pass out. He's like he's slightly wonders if anyone will call him out on it.

He really does not want that.

Moving his hands which are beginning to ache in protest he tries to clear his head.

Tears falling from his eyes and he can't help it. He won't ever see his old man again or come home, call overly excited.

Call or text him at odd times of the day.

To simply talk about a work day being just great for the company.

His precious startup. What he has invested blood, sweat and tears. Long restless nights and so much stress, his life's savings into.

He has to do this and no one can understand his heartbreak.

He tries to clear his head. Then when he thinks he's gotten himself together enough he looks at the crowd again.

This time noticing the cute stranger looking right at him. Right now he doesn't feel alone.

"My father once said music, is how people like him pray. I think the words 'hard work' were implied because I never saw him stop." 

The room is engulfed in silence as everyone's attention is kept on him. He is reminded that he has to pull himself together.

Stay in the present because he can get through this.

His Dad taught him that life is a series of challenges and how you go about overcoming them.

* * *

"I can see, feel what you are going through. It is something life changing."

He is sitting on the church steps wondering why he didn't bring an extra sweater.

It is far too cold outside.

The words make him look up. They were spoken so softly he had almost thought he imagined it. The whole interaction.

He looks away and back at the busy streets. Inviting him to sit in silence.

They can hear the priest say some prayers as the last song he composed for his Dad being to play inside.

He should go back in. His body shivers in protest.

His eyes hurt. He wants to tear his clothes off and just burrow himself under the covers.

"I am here with you, friend."


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

He has been feeling really weird lately. Off.

As if something is wrong with him but physically he feels great.

He exercises. Eats healthy enough. Gets enough sleep a little less regularly these days.

With everything going on but it shouldn't have been enough to make him feel like this.

Maybe he just needs a break. From it all. His company and problems. Technology.

He already has a flight booked. A rental jet.

He rarely leaves the city anyway but maybe this is what he needs.

And it's a bit too late to back out now or change his mind. The plane leaves in about half an hour.

* * *

"I am and I am not. I create. Have de-created on a whim. I have broken and rebuilt myself more times.."

He takes a breath or maybe he paused to try to get his God's face out of his every thought.

But he's back in real time. Pulling up a chair at the head of the table.

His board members having made the time to physically catch a flight out here to see what was so urgent.

Pressing.

They really don't like surprises. They clearly also do not want to repeat of last time.

The fallout. With the public, the investors, the world.

It's still too recent into-after the company's massive data breach.

Scandal and their boss hasn't exactly been the same since.

The man is a genius, a true prodigy if one has ever lived.

But the man looks a little broken.

Like he's really going through it and sure they mostly care about the money, lifestyle he-his mind affords them.

He matters too however. They are concerned. He is so closed off. 

Far too young to be this way.

They think he should settle down for sure but that he should go out and experience a little of what the world has to offer.

Pick up a vice or go learn to surf. Something just to say he lived a little.

He the money, the looks and time. Why is he still here. Not that the company has outgrown him.

Of course Mr. Xie still has plenty to offer.

Innovations. Support. Loyalty. Love.

A deep rooted passion for his work.

But he needs some time away.

At least that's a thought that has been going over their head since the data breach.

* * *

"Than I am comfortable admitting but tonight that is neither here nor there."

He reaches for the knot of his tie. The room feels a little stuffy. Some of these people are closer to him than family in almost all the ways that count.

"I have called this board meeting with enough of a notice I hope." He smiles something tight, a charm that is rare.

A warmth to him that seems fleeting these days.

He pressed a button on his computer and they see a lovely woman.

Looking slightly younger than their current boss. Apparently live streaming from Tokyo.

"Meet my niece, Melody Stone. She will be acting CEO whilst I take a small leave of absence. A self-imposed sabbatical really."

He looks at New Media. She is not his God but his fickleness drove him here.

Gave him no other choice than to rely on her.


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

"Genoa. Fine, fuck. Here I come." He had really thought the random trip generator would lead him somewhere a little more exciting.

But he got Italy. It's not bad and it honestly beats staying in his office or going home. 

There he can possibly go. No, will try sightseeing. Going on a hike sounds marvelous.

Maybe he can book in some paragliding or surfing. Then going on an art tour while wine and pasta tasting.

Hell yeah. He's hyped himself up aside from the slight nerves. Excited to see what's in store.

And the drive to the airport is a short one. With his driver wishing him a fun trip.

A good time. Joking as they mention bringing back a souvenir.

With Xie thinking sure, he can do that. 

He just kind of wishes he weren't going alone he guesses but it'd be a little weird of him to just ask someone on a whim.

Especially if he offered to pay for all of their expenses. They'd probably assume he was expecting something in return. It's just how the world works.

He thanks the man and steps out onto the concrete. Wanting to wave goodbye kind of but no. That won't happen.

By the time he is in already the rental jet he has turned off his phone. 

* * *

When the pilot asked to him to chill and take a nice nap or watch a movie he really meant it.

The flight was around thirteen hours give or take a few minutes.

He got though two books. The movie 50 First Dates.

A few restroom breaks and a quick bout of second guessing himself for the third maybe fourth time this day.

Telling himself that Helen Keller once said, life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all. She had to know something. 

A late breakfast that leaned a bit more towards brunch, then lunch and some snacks.

By the time the jet lands he's halfway through playing tic-tac-toe with the stewardess because he convinced her to take a 5-minute break.

He lost and she smiles briefly, thanking him for his business as she starts to go.

Letting him know that if he wants to go sooner than a week from now. That he is free to call.


End file.
